


I Don’t Know About You, But I’m Feelin’ Tiramisu

by cortexikid



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, M/M, Non-explicit undertones of inappropriate behaviour from a stranger, Oblivious Richie Tozier, Pining, Prompt Fill, Richie and Eddie are at an executive meeting, Thirsty Eddie Kaspbrak, they pretend to be boyfriends to dissuade a flirty exec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortexikid/pseuds/cortexikid
Summary: “You think he bought it?”Eddie tilted his head up at Richie, barely restraining his desire to roll his eyes.“Hook, line and sinker, dude.”“Huh,” Richie laughed, “who knew you pretending to be my boyfriend would be the icing on the cake?”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 232





	I Don’t Know About You, But I’m Feelin’ Tiramisu

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a response to the prompt “An awkward first kiss” put forth to me by tinyarmedtrex on Tumblr. Hope you enjoy!

“Okay Rich, you think it over. Get back to me ASAP, though. Can’t keep HBO waiting,” Harry ‘Ace’ McIntyre grinned, clapping Richie Tozier hard on the shoulder as he stood up from the table.

“It was a pleasure, Eddie.”

Eddie Kaspbrak forced a smile onto his face.

“Back at ya, Harry.” 

Steely, grey eyes flickered before a large, cold hand was covering his, squeezing tightly.

“Ace, Eddie please. Call me Ace.” 

Eddie could feel Richie stifling a laugh (no doubt thinking about Ace Ventura, knowing him) from where he was practically plastered along his side, their thighs and shoulders pressed together as they sat at the restaurant table, staring up at the older man.

“Ace.” 

The two friends watched for several beats as the tall, salt-and-pepper-haired executive turned on his heel and swanned out of the room towards the elevators. 

“You think he bought it?” 

Eddie tilted his head up at Richie, barely restraining his desire to roll his eyes.

“Hook, line and sinker, dude. Don’t think he was all too focussed on _you_ anyway.” 

Richie guffawed, taking a sip of his drink.

“I know, right? Who knew all I’d need to do to get him to stop relentlessly flirting with me was to bring you along to our business meeting?” 

Eddie frowned at him, catching his eye, “Uh... _you_ did, Rich. Isn’t that the whole reason you asked me in the first place?” 

A beat passed. Two. 

“Yeah, Eds,” Richie nodded, eyes lowering to the table, before draining his glass in one large gulp, “but your uh...your plan of pretending to be my boyfriend was the icing on the cake.”

He shrugged, gaze darting across the room to where Harry was entering the elevator, a smirk and small wave aimed their way as the doors closed.

“Still think it may just make ol’ Ace think he’s in for an Eds and Richie icecream sandwich, though.” 

Eddie snorted into his own glass of chardonnay, side-eyeing the menu at his left elbow.

“No way I’d have a threesome with that Mark Harmon wannabe,” he grumbled along with his stomach, that took that moment to let out an embarrassingly loud growl. 

Richie’s eyebrows shot up.

“Shit Eds, my bad. Forgot all you had was our liquid lunch. Let's get some food into you before you start swooning like a Victorian maiden in the breeze.” 

Eddie glared at him, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Don’t worry about _my_ blood sugar, Trashmouth. You’re the one that eats like a hungover college student. Isn’t it about ramen o’clock for you?” 

Which was how they ended up ordering actual dinner at the fancy hotel that Harry ‘Ace’ McIntyre insisted they stay at, overnight, all expenses paid on his company credit card. It was only mid-way through his smoked salmon that Eddie realised that Richie, at no point, made any move to leave his side and sit across from him. 

Instead, he stayed practically attached at his hip, their elbows constantly bumping together as they reached for glasses and cutlery and eventually, the dessert menu. 

“Hmm...tiramisu,” Richie muttered almost to himself, “the sexiest of desserts.” 

Eddie stared at him.

“There are sexy desserts?” 

Richie slowly lowered the menu, his already-large eyes practically bug-like as he gaped at Eddie.

“Uh, yeah Eds. Duh. Tiramasu, Death by Chocolate, Sex in a Pan, pretty much anything with strawberries—”

“Sex in a pan?” 

Richie blinked.

“I saw it on Pinterest.” 

“You’re on Pinterest?” 

A flush crossed Richie’s cheeks as he clearly tried to backpedal, “Uh, some girl on Twitter sent me a link—”

“Don’t you have to have an account to see things on—”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m feelin’ tiramisu.” 

Eddie chuckled, “Isn’t that a Taylor Swift song?”

Richie’s mouth dropped open, clearly pleased his joke landed. 

“Eds! Did you just get a pop culture reference? Didn’t know you had it in ya, buddy.” 

Richie was practically scarlet now, flushed with amusement, alcohol and something else. Eddie was kinda obsessed with the descent of crimson down his face, neck and disappearing into the open top button of his very nice navy shirt that Bev had forced him into earlier that day. 

His gaze lingered on Richie’s bobbing Adam's apple for a second too long, missing Richie’s response.

“What?” 

Eddie forced his eyes back up to safer areas.

“I uh...I said we could just share something if you want?” 

Eddie was doing a little better with his germaphobia these days. Being Richie’s roommate for the last year probably had something to do with it. If anything was gonna help ease him out of a lifetime of habitual, borderline-obsessive cleanliness was watching Richie eat a giant, meatball calzone with his bare hands on the white, cloth couch that Eddie had picked out when he first moved in. His heart had raced every time Richie groaned after each bite, but now that Eddie thought on it, that may not have been _just_ because of the abundance of spaghetti sauce that threatened the integrity of their furniture. 

Because really, Eddie had never shied away from sharing space with even the messiest Richie. From sharing anything with any version of Richie, really. Pop rockets, hammocks and now...tiramisu. Eddie didn't know why Richie had always been the exception to his many, many rules regarding things like germs and personal space—

Except, he did. He knew well enough.

Which was how he wasn’t as grossed out as he should have been when both his and Richie’s spoons dipped into the dessert over and over again, clattering together until there was only one bite left.

Richie made a sweeping movement with his empty spoon, eyes twinkling.

“Have at it, Eds. I’m stuffed.” 

It was when Eddie had the final spoonful raised to his lips did he realise how close their faces were and how Richie had yet to look away from him. 

He closed his mouth around the spoon, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched Richie’s eyes follow the movement, his Adam’s apple bobbing again.

Warmth pooled into Eddie’s abdomen.

He could only imagine what this must look like to any outsiders looking in.

_It looks like you’re on a date, genius._

It felt like he was on a date too, if he was being honest.

“‘S good,” he mumbled as he let the spoon fall back down into the bowl, trying to ignore his thumping heartbeat.

The noise of the spoon clanking against the dish seemed to startle Richie, he jerking slightly in his chair, blinking rapidly, staring down at the tablecloth that he was bunching in his hands.

“Y-Yeah, it was good. Uh...you uh...want another drink?” 

Eddie stared at Richie’s whitening knuckles, his brain buzzing.

“Actually I’m kinda tired. Can we head upstairs?” 

Upstairs to their shared room with only one bed because Eddie had had the bright idea of him pretending to be Richie’s boyfriend to get ‘Ace’ McIntyre to stop sniffing around him like a cat in heat. 

_That wasn’t the only reason though, was it Kaspbrak?_

The sudden screech of Richie pushing out of his chair jolted Eddie out of his spiral. 

“Sure Eds, sounds good.” 

He dropped a hefty tip on the table before grabbing his suit jacket and draping it over his shoulder. Eddie watched as Richie’s chest and waist expanded and constricted with the motion, the tight material of his shirt leaving little to the imagination. 

“Lead the way, Tozier.” 

His voice was a lot more croaky than he would have liked as he swallowed around the dry lump in his throat, but he ignored it as he stood up and grabbed his own jacket, forcing his eyes to focus on the safe spot between Richie’s shoulder blades and not letting them drift lower while he followed him out of the restaurant towards the elevators. 

They stood shoulder to shoulder, or in Eddie’s case, shoulder to upper arm, (Richie’s gangly height never failing to irritate him and...something else entirely sometimes) as Richie bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting for the doors to open.

“I’m proud of you, Rich.”

He didn’t plan on saying it, but did anyway. 

Richie had come so far since he came out, live on stage last year. He had weathered the media storm post-coming-out, dealt with the backlash from shitty former-fans, opened up his home to Eddie who was freshly-divorced and recuperating from an actual-death-experience, written an emmy-nominated-and-favourite-to-win standup and was now working on developing his own comedy/drama for HBO alongside Bill. 

Eddie was beyond proud of him.

He was just never the one good with words.

“Thanks, Eds.”

Their gazes met just as the elevator doors opened. 

Judging by his misty eyes, Richie didn’t need much more than that from Eddie. 

The ride up fifteen floors seemed to last forever and no time at all as they shared nothing but mingled breaths in the small space, their arms pressed against each other. Something thrummed in Eddie’s veins, an energy, a spark flooding his system with adrenaline as he felt on the precipice of something that they had been on for a long time. A knife-edge of potential with a seemingly endless drop.

It was terrifying.

And exhilarating. 

And the most alive Eddie Kaspbrak had felt in a long, long time.

The doors opened with a jolt, snapping him from his reverie as he followed Richie down the hallway, fighting to catch his breath, not sure whether to curse the multiple glasses of wine he had or thank them. His eyes sought the strong line of Richie’s shoulder blades, biting his lip as he admired the expanse of Richie’s back as he walked.

They arrived at the door so abruptly that Eddie bumped up against that back, his face pressing into the shirt that smelled amazing. Something woodsy and sharp but not overwhelming. It was a smell he was familiar with, having shared a home with Richie all this time, but having it this close, this strong, was something else entirely. 

“Whoa, where’s the fire Eds?” Richie joked, but sounded rather winded as he began shuffling, clearly looking for something as Eddie forced himself to right his footing, leaning away from him a little, but not much.

As Richie continued to struggle with his suit jacket, Eddie’s hand reached out almost unbeknownst to him to rest on Richie’s breast-pocket, fingers deftly reaching in and pulling out the keycard, holding it up pointedly.

“Looking for this?” he asked far too breathlessly as he took in just how close they were standing, crowded against the door in the dim-light of the hotel hallway. 

“Uh...yeah,” Richie mumbled, expression enigmatic as he reached out to take the key, their hands brushing. 

Eddie stared at their fingers, quiet words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

“You know, if this was a real date, this is probably where you’d kiss me goodnight.” 

_What the fuck, Kaspbrak?!_

Richie gasped, eyebrows climbing up his forehead.

“Eds what—”

Eddie surged up, gripping the back of Richie’s neck and pulling him down, sealing his lips with his.

It wasn’t fireworks or explosions or any of Hollywood-esque bullshit.

It was...awkward. Mostly.

Mainly because Richie was frozen on the spot, one arm glued to his side, the other still clenching his hand and Eddie highly aware of a laser-focussed gaze zeroed in on them.

“Wow, someone is in for a fun night, huh boys?” a familiar voice asked, creepily smug.

Eddie pulled away, heaving a breath, his hand falling from Richie’s neck to grip the front of his shirt.

“Harr—Ace, uh sorry. Didn’t see ya there.” 

He did, though.

Eddie had spotted him coming towards them just as the words ‘kiss me goodnight’ left his mouth and his tipsy brain decided that actually kissing Richie would be an okay cover for what the executive may have overheard. 

“A-Ace,” Richie rasped, looking as shell-shocked as Eddie felt as he turned to the older man.

“Thanks again for e-everything. Looking forward to hearing from you. Goodnight!”

With that, he tugged Eddie’s hand toward the electric lock, clicking the door open and pulling Eddie haphazardly over the threshold, slamming the door behind them. 

Eddie blinked up at him, their hands still joined. 

“Uh, that was kinda rude, Rich—”

“If I didn’t drag your sexy little ass in here, he’d be following us, thanks to your... _show,_ ” Richie cut across him, eyes wild, his arms flailing, dropping Eddie’s hand like a stone. 

Eddie covered his disappointment by raking it through his hair, not caring that it was likely sticking up in all angles now. 

He was mid-swipe through his locks when Richie’s words caught up to him.

“ _Sexy_?” 

Richie’s attention snapped from the door back to him.

“Huh?” 

Heat flooded Eddie’s cheeks as he cleared his throat.

“You uh...you called me sexy. Or, my ass anyway.” 

Richie looked as if Eddie had just slapped him.

“Eds—I— _that’s_ what you choose to focus on? Not the fact that an exec wants to engage in a little unholy trinity with us? Of course you’re fucking sexy, Eddie, are you kidding? You have to know tha—”

“Yeah, I really don’t,” he cut across him with his patented karate chop, insecurity beginning to creep into his veins. 

_What the fuck were you thinking, dumbass? It wasn’t a real date, you’re not real boyfr—_

“You’re...you’re _gorgeous_ Eddie, fuck.” 

The words were wrenched from deep in Richie’s chest, as if it pained him to say them. His face, always full of a myriad of expressions, was no less of a silent story now. 

It seemed like a whole other confession. 

And maybe it was. 

Warmth pooled in Eddie’s stomach as he stepped closer and closer to Richie until his back hit the door. 

It was up close like this that he could properly see just how affected Richie was after their little performance, his breath ragged, his skin flushed, his pupils dilated.

_Holy shit_.

“You...you’re sexy too by the way,” he admitted, his head spinning with the truth, “Bev is an angel for that suit, _fuck Richie_ ,” he gasped, reaching out to clasp the collar of his shirt. 

“I...I really wanna make a ‘buy a guy dinner first’ joke but uh...guess Ace has us beat,” Richie mumbled, looking awestruck as he slowly, tentatively ran his hand down Eddie’s forearm, feather-light. 

“Pity he won’t reap the rewards,” Eddie tried to grin, failing to suppress a shiver as their skin met.

Richie leaned down until their mouths were barely an inch apart.

“And what rewards would that—”

Eddie shoved him back against the door with a thump, leaning up and crashing his lips against his.

This kiss was anything but awkward. It was fire and light and energy and...overwhelmingly right. Richie was ready for it this time, kissing back wholeheartedly, one hand clutching Eddie’s hip and the other winding around his back, pulling him flush against him. 

Eddie groaned as Richie’s tongue brushed along the seam of his bottom lip, deepening the kiss and causing a bolt of arousal to shoot through him.

They broke for air, Eddie gasping against his lips, “J-Jesus Rich, you learn to kiss like that on Pinterest too?” 

Richie laughed, his eyes still closed as he leaned down to rest his forehead against Eddie’s.

“Nah. Just a lot of articles on how to seduce your best friend and lifelong crush.” 

Warmth spread throughout Eddie’s chest, his throat tightening with emotion.

_I love you too, dumbass._

They had a lot to discuss. More words to exchange than either of them had the emotional capacity to communicate right now, so Eddie fell back on their routine. For now. 

Tomorrow was another day. 

“And what...what was the first step? Tiramisu?” 

Richie’s eyes blinked open, shining bright in the semi-darkness.

“I told you, Eds. It i _s_ the sexiest dessert.” 

Eddie chuckled, rolling his eyes as he pulled him back down. 

“I’m not so sure. I can think of something sexier.” 

* * *

More [Reddie stuff here.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortexikid/works?fandom_id=134900) Come yell at me about these Losers [on Tumblr if that’s your thing](http://octoberobserver.tumblr.com) :) 


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